"I don't like fish all that much," Ralph admitted. "I think I had enough back down in the Aquapolis. I was hoping for something a little more… terrestrial."
Barstow smiled and climbed the wrought iron stairs to the brass chair. It turned slightly as he sat down on it. "This fishy ain't for eating, my friend. You just wait and see."
Everyone watched as Barstow settled himself into the seat, resting his feet on a pair of fitted pedals and turning the chair so that it faced backwards, overlooking the rest of the ship. Apparently satisfied, he lifted the strange pole straight up into the air. It wavered high over the deck, flashing darts of sunlight from its brass fittings. Carefully, Barstow began to swing the pole in a small arc, as if he were using it to draw a circle in the briny sky. The circle widened as Barstow swung faster, creating larger and larger arcs.
"Look," Izzy cried, pointing. "It's a fishing pole! Just like Papa Warren used to use on the lake!"
James squinted in the sunlight, trying to follow the movement of the pole's tip. Sure enough, a length of magical string spooled out behind it, pulling a very large ephemeral hook. Suddenly, Barstow heaved the pole back over his shoulder, stretching back so much that the hook swooped far behind him, past the prow of the Gwyndemere and out over the waves. Finally, in one swift, smooth motion, Barstow cast the pole forward, snapping the large ghostly hook through the air. It flashed past the masts, over the deckhouse and smokestack, and out over the stern, where it finally dipped into the waves. Barstow reached forward and fitted the handle of the fishing pole into the clasp that Lucy had mentioned earlier. It locked into place, making the pole an extension of the articulated brass arm. That done, Barstow relaxed, but only a little.
"What," Ralph asked, his eyes wide, "do you catch with a hook like that?"
"There's no bait on it!" Albus suddenly said, looking accusingly up at Barstow. "How do you plan to catch anything with no bait?"
"Oh, it's baited, friends," Barstow laughed, "but not with food. The hook's made of a little magical concoction I've been working on over the last decade or so. It's not an easy thing, conjuring sea serpent pheromone, believe you me."
Ralph paled a little and peered out at the choppy waves. "Sea serpent?" he repeated carefully.
"Pheromone?" James added, standing on tiptoes to see over the stern of the boat. "What's that?"
Lucy seemed to be stifling a grin. "It's sort of like a love potion. For fish."
"For a sea serpent," Ralph clarified. "I'm just trying to be sure I heard him right. That's what he said, isn't it?"
A loud twang suddenly pierced the air. Barstow heaved backwards on the pole and its articulated arm, and James saw the magical thread trembling tautly over the boat.
"There she is!" Barstow cried happily. "Landed a big one! That's Henrietta, I'll wager! She's the best of the fleet! Hold fast, everyone!"
James, Albus, Izzy, and Lucy scrambled to the ship's railing, craning down the length of the boat for a glimpse of the mysterious Henrietta. In the brass chair, Barstow grunted and cursed to himself, wrestling with the pole, which bent precipitously. "Come on over, sweetheart," he muttered through gritted teeth. "Right this way, that's it. You know the routine…"
James finally saw the point where the magical fishing line entered the water. A shape heaved beneath, pushing the waves into a sudden, boiling hill. A line of serrated fins broke the surface and sawed through it, angling toward the Gwyndemere.
"That can't be good," Ralph said in a high voice.
James swallowed, but Barstow seemed grimly pleased.
"That's my great big girl," he teased. "Come to papa, then. Just a little further, that's the way…"
A monstrous, serpentine shape became visible as it shot beneath the boat, dragging the magical fishing line with it. Barstow whooped happily and swung around as the chair swiveled beneath him, pulled by the massive shape beneath the waves.
"She's through the harness," he cried, bracing himself against the chair's foot pedals. "Hang on tight, everyone!"
"I really wish people would stop saying that," Ralph moaned, gripping the railing with both hands.
As if on cue, a horrible shudder shook the boat, jerking it forward in the water. James stumbled but remained upright, clinging staunchly to one of the ship's bollards. Lucy fell backwards against him and James caught her. Her black hair streamed into his face, tickling his cheeks.
"Sorry James," she called, glancing back at him over her shoulder and grinning sheepishly. "I thought I was ready for it."
James laughed. "I don't think anybody was ready for that."
"We're off!" Albus cried, running toward the prow and peering forward. "Excellent! She's pulling us! And look how fast we're going!"
"She can maintain forty knots," Barstow called down proudly, operating the screws that locked the brass armature in place. "With bursts of ninety if required. She's the fastest of all her sisters, if you ask me."
"Is she really a sea serpent?" Izzy asked, raising her hand to her forehead and studying the waves that roared under the ship's prow. "I can't see anything but a sort of froth up there by her head. That's her head, right?"
"It's her cranial fin," Barstow nodded. "And that there's Henrietta, the great Atlantean razorback. Biggest and longest of the sea beasts. Good thing she's on our side, eh? Back in the old days, creatures like her were real ship-eaters. Now, there's only a few left in the whole world. Worth more than her own weight in Galleons, she is."
"How do you steer her?" Albus asked, glancing back at the pole. "And how's that little bit of wood hold her?"
Barstow laughed. "That's just the lead," he explained, calling over the rushing wind. "We use it like reins on a horse, turning her this way and that. The real muscle is underneath the boat. She's attached to us by an iron harness and a length of anchor chain. That's what I was teasing her through, and that's the only tricky part. From here on out, it's smooth sailing."
In a concerned voice, Izzy asked, "Doesn't Henrietta ever get tired?"
"She ain't like us, love," Barstow replied, squinting toward the horizon. "She could take us the whole way and back with barely a breath. But we'll stop and feed her once or twice along the way, give her the breathers she deserves. After all, she's the queen of the voyage, isn't she?" He smiled lovingly at the great beast as it carved the waves.
"What about the big gorilla?" Ralph asked. "Doesn't he get bored?"
"See for yourself!" Barstow called down, hooking a thumb over his shoulder.
James, Lucy, and Ralph turned to look back. The bow's huge cargo doors were thrown open in the sunlight. Peering up out of them, resting his chin on his crossed arms, was the great ape. His black fur rippled in the wind and he blinked slowly, apparently enjoying the sense of speed and the rushing air.